


Three Times Sara Handcuffed Michael

by Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Ending, F/M, Handcuffs, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael started it; It’s only fair retaliation. (Post-series, alternate canon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Times Sara Handcuffed Michael

**Author's Note:**

> Someone I won’t name thought that one of my recent fics lacked Michael in handcuffs... Here’s a little thing to compensate ;)

**1.**

Michael started it. He cuffed her hands to the headboard and wrapped a scarf around her eyes, pushed her legs wide open to settle between them and licked his way down her neck, her chest, her stomach... He took his sweet time. He could; he had the whole night, after all. Sara bit her lips and squeezed her eyes closed beneath her blindfold. Eventually she couldn’t take it anymore, canted her hips and begged. The chain of the cuffs rattled when she jerked and tugged on it. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could feel his mirth. Smug smartass.

So having him on his back, tied up and gasping and trying to direct her wandering attention where he needs it so badly is fair retaliation. Moreover, she’s nicer than he’s been with her: she hasn’t blindfolded him, which means that he can watch her as she’s sliding down and down and...

Somehow, watching her only serves to make him more desperate. She grins.

 

**2.**

He said that, properly motivated, he could break free of anything, anywhere, anytime. He was staring at her cleavage, at the half exposed curve of her breasts as he spoke, making it clear enough where his motivation currently lay. The heat and candor in his tone made up for the lack of subtlety of the innuendo. Moreover, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t willing to play along.

So she muses out loud about long fingers and where she wants them when he’s free of the damn handcuffs. His hands start to shake and he becomes a bit frantic in his attempts to free himself. Maybe because he needs additional motivation? She leans forward to offer him an eyeful and another dose of incentive; or more reasons to be frantic. The pin she offered him to pick the cuffs slips out of his fingers and she winces fake-sympathetically in a way that means “Shoot, now you have to keep those on”.

She can do not-subtle innuendos as well as anyone.

 

**3.**

At last, he admitted he kind of enjoyed it. His face absurdly red and his teeth clenched as though to contain the words. Being restrained and at her mercy even – or especially – when she lacked any basic mercy for him had its perks. A lot of perks. He liked lying back with his hands pushed above his head; he loved the hunger and the mischief in her eyes; the sight of the small key in the palm of her hand had the most fascinating effects on some parts of his anatomy.

So she straddles him and moves languidly, swaying on top of him and rolling her hips in lazy circles. Her breasts shift with every shallow thrust; her hair grazes her shoulders and back, wild and messy; her fingers tease his wrists. When she bends down to kiss him, the handcuff key she’s wearing on a string around her neck presses into his chest, warm and slippery with sweat.

He calls her a tease and whispers that he loves her – so _much_. He seems less impatient than ever to lose the handcuffs.

END


End file.
